


Broken Blade

by SporadicReader



Series: Good Omens - Mafia [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst, Assassin - Freeform, BDSM, Begging, Betrayal, Biting, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dark Crowley (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, Discipline, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Loss, M/M, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Painful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Serial Killers, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Violence, mafia, mafia boss crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SporadicReader/pseuds/SporadicReader
Summary: "Well, well, well… what do we have here? A failed assassination attempt? You kinda look like an angel, you know?"Aziraphale winces at the demon‘s voice above him, struggling to escape his strong iron grip."L-Let me go or you’re g-gonna regret it!", he growls.The demon‘s hand presses between his shoulder blades as he replies: "Well, isn’t that cute? I could kill you right now and you’re still trying to threat me, angel?"
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens - Mafia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163942
Comments: 62
Kudos: 120





	1. Demon

_It’s an assassination. I don’t have to show my strength in a fight; I just have to make contact once. I just need to kill him._

Aziraphale hides silently in the shadows, holding his knives backwards in his hands. He uses two knives since he started to be an assassin - it often helped him when he was in a tight spot as an assassin and had to squeeze his way out. This technique can also create an ideal killing situation, especially when your target isn’t a pro. It sets the stage for an instant kill. And that is exactly what Aziraphale wants.

Gabriel told him that his target is called "The Demon" and that he is also an assassin. His speed and defenses are impeccable, but it would be easy to kill him in a surprising moment. That were all information his boss gave him. 

Right now, the demon is sleeping in his bed, breathing deeply and steadily. The moment he stepped into the demon’s mansion, Aziraphale was sure that he has to face a few guards at least. Either the demon was very self-confident or very foolish. But Aziraphale doesn’t care… all he has to do is killing his target and going back to Gabriel and his gang after that.

If he won’t kill the demon on the first try, he has no choice but to take him on in a close combat. He would attack the demon with his knives and when he is about to win the fight, his center of balance would shift to the back, he would grab his shirt, pull him down and go in for the kill. As an assassin, his target can probably block a blow from the front, so he circles around behind him, and for sure -

Aziraphale blinks a few times. The demon wasn’t lying in his bed anymore. He grabs his knives tighter, trying to find out if his own mind is working against him. A heartbeat later, someone grabs his wrists and throws him on the large bed, pushing all the air out of his lungs.

_A-An attack from behind at point-blank range?! It came so suddenly… and out of nowhere. The demon wasn’t even close to him until just now._

"Well, well, well… what do we have here? A failed assassination attempt? You kinda look like an angel, you know?"

Aziraphale flinches at the demon‘s voice above him, struggling to escape his strong iron grip. "L-Let me go or you’re g-gonna regret it!“, he growls.

The demon‘s hand presses between his shoulder blades as he replies mockingly: "Well, isn’t that cute? I could kill you within a heartbeat and you’re still trying to threat me. You’ve got spirit, _angel_." 

The grip around his wrists tightens as he leans down and whispers into Aziraphale‘s ear: "I have to wonder if you did your homework, sweetheart. You have to know, an assassin should always do their research and learn everything about their target. An assassin who neglects to sharpen their knife is no assassin at all."

Aziraphale tries desperately to ignore his words. "What… what do you mean by that?" _Did Gabriel give him too less information? Or was he just as unaware of his skills like Aziraphale?_

"Oh, sweetie… I‘m trying to explain to you that your biggest mistake is attempting to kill one of the best assassins of London."

Aziraphale‘s heart stops beating for a second. _One of the best assassins of London? Gabriel described the demon like he was a normal assassin and not a pro_. "Well, if I knew that I was gonna meet such a popular person this night, I would have asked for an autograph before trying to kill you."

"Well, angel… I have to admit that I’ve never met a killer with your kind of humor. I’m sure we’re gonna have a wonderful time."

Aziraphale tries to turn his head around but the demon is way stronger than he is. "You’re not gonna… kill me?", he asks, his voice shaking.

"Killing you? Where would the fun be in that? No, I’m not gonna kill you. I’m just gonna keep you, little angel. The moment you stepped into my mansion and attempted to kill me, you lost your freedom and became my property. Moreover, the law won't help you even if you would escape me. I have them all wrapped around my finger. All of them - and if they find you, they will just bring you back to me."

Aziraphale realizes that he might have made the biggest mistake in his whole life. Is his assassin’s pay worth it? No, not at all. The demon could do worse things than just killing him. He plays with one of his blond curls as he continues: "You made a fatal mistake that is going to cost you everything. No one fucks with me. I now own _every_ aspect of you. I could just keep you as my pet… a cute little toy that is chained to my bed and just waits for me to come home in the night."

Aziraphale‘s heart beats faster. "I won’t let you do that, you snake. You will never break me!"

The demon chuckles again. "Oh, I‘m aware of that, angel. The moment you stepped into my bedroom, I realized that you have a talent. Not a knack for combat or for violence… but a knack for _assassination_. The talent to hide your bloodlust on your approach, to use that bloodlust to frighten your foe and to be self-assured in going trough with it all. And because of that… I’m offering you to become a member of _my_ gang. That idiot Gabriel hadn’t recognize your talent, but I did, darling."

_He even knows that I’m a member of Gabriel’s gang?!_ Aziraphale doesn’t know what to say. Becoming a member of his gang is the last thing he wants. But he doesn’t dare to think about all the things the demon would do to him if he wouldn’t obey. A knack for assassination… it sounds like he’s something special. But Aziraphale knows that he’s not as good as the demon believes. His only chance to escape him is gaining the demon‘s trust and escape at his first chance. He has to make it.

"Fine… I a-accept." Aziraphale feels like the grip around his wrists becomes less strong as the demon responds: "I knew you would do the right thing angel. And if you need anything to scream now… the name is Crowley." Before Aziraphale can asks him what he means by that, he feels a sharp pain in his neck and the world turns black.


	2. Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there are not too many mistakes… I wrote this at 3am. Hahah. ^^'

Aziraphale wakes up with a choking scream, grabbing the dark sheets tightly and shakes with fear. "Oh dear Lord…", he whispers and tries to hide his face with shaking hands. _It was just a fucking dream. Calm down, you idiot. Calm down._

The blond has no idea at all how long he has slept, but he remembers every single dream that haunted him during the last hours. Every time, he demon pressed him down on the bed again, holding his wrists behind his back and bit his neck to leave bruises while his hands moved all over his trembling body. The redhead whispered dirty things in his ear, forced him to spread his legs and…

Aziraphale has no time to think about anything else as he hears the demon‘s mocking voice next to him.

"Dang… why are you screaming? Are you trying to kill me by getting a heart attack, angel? How rude of you."

Aziraphale sees the demon… no, Crowley, sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading a book. He was still in the mafioso‘s bedroom, laying in his bed. The blond doesn’t want to explain the reason for his screaming and turns his head away, feeling how his cheeks turn red, regardless to his efforts.

Crowley looks at him for a long moment and his lips stretches into a mischievous grin. "Please don’t tell me that you screamed like a little girl because you had a bad dream", he says without turning his eyes off of the blonde.

Aziraphale blushes even more and the demon laughs out loud. "Geez, if I had known that you are that sensitive, angel, I…"

"Stop calling me that", Aziraphale interrupts him, rubbing his temples and trying to recover from last night. "Stop calling me an angel. I’ve killed more people than I can count. I’m anything but an angel. So, don’t you dare to call me that."

"I would really love to see you try stopping me, _angel_ ", Crowley replies, looking at his book again. "But because we’re gonna spend a long time together… what’s about your real name?"

Aziraphale hesitates for a moment and looks at the redhead again, blinking a few times. "I-It’s Aziraphale F-Fell", he stammers and still tries to stop his blushing.

"Aziraphale Fell… it suits you, darling. And why did you decide to become a killer?"

The blond feels the anger slowly rises inside of him. _It’s none of his business!_ "You’re interrogating me, eh?", he says and looks the redhead directly in the face. Crowley chuckles, laying his book on the table next to his bed.

"Aw, you’re hurting me. I just wanna know who you are, angel", he says innocently. "If you don’t wanna tell me something about you, there are other ways to find information about your past. But in that case, I could find information that are quite… embarrassing."

 _Who does this idiot think he is?!_ , Aziraphale thinks furiously. But he also doesn’t want the demon to find out any personal facts about him.

"I-I lost… the love of my life. He got killed by an assassin who brutally tortured him for hours and than cut his throat. His death broke… something deep inside of me. At this time, I was weak and couldn’t help him. Also, I still don’t know who that assassin was. So, I decided to gain strength and to find that monster and kill them. And I _will_ find them", Aziraphale says, trying to fight back his tears. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the redhead - he doesn’t want to seem weak or vulnerable.

"I am sorry for your loss", Crowley says, this time, without any mock in his voice. "But I hope you know that you can’t spend your whole life on seeking revenge. At some point, you have to let the past go. Feelings are difficult to kill, but they’re a lot harder to resurrect."

 _That’s it. How dare he to say him to let go of his past and stop seeking revenge?!_ Aziraphale jumps off of the bed, trying to slap the redhead in the face but, again, Crowley is faster than he is. He grabs the blonde by the collar and pushes him back on the bed.

"Some people would think you _like_ being pushed into a bed. If that’s what you want, you just need to ask, angel", Crowley purrs into his ear.

Aziraphale tries to kick him off with his legs but he can’t deny that he still feels weak from last night. " _Shut up!_ You have no right to do this! Get off of me and shut the fuck up, you stupid assho…"

The redhead punches his fist right next to Aziraphale and silence him immediately. "Don’t forget who’s in charge here, sweetheart", Crowley growls, grabbing his collar tighter. "I’m your boss now and nobody of my members attack me. _Nobody_. I’m sure even Gabriel would beat the shit out of you if you would try to attack him."

Before Aziraphale can response to this, someone knocks at the door and steps inside the redhead‘s bedroom. "Yo, boss. Dinner‘s ready", a male voice says.

"We‘ll be there in five minutes, Hastur", the redhead growls without taking his eyes off Aziraphale.

As the door closes, Crowley gets off of the blonde and let him stand up as well. "You’ve heard him, angel. Get downstairs."

The blond stands up and glares at him. "I’m not hungry."

Crowley is smirking again as he replies: "That was no question, _angel_."

"I‘m still not hungry, _Crowley_."

The redhead steps forward until his face is just an inch away from Aziraphale‘s. "Get downstairs. Now. I won’t repeat myself."

The blond turns his face away from him and steps to the door. _I will make him regret all of this_ , Aziraphale thinks.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The diner was exactly as horrible as Aziraphale thought. Crowley introduced him to some of his most loyal members like Hastur, Beelzebub and Ligur. They didn’t understand why Crowley offered the blond to become a part of their gang but they didn’t question their leader‘s decision. Beelzebub ignored him during the whole diner and Hastur and Ligur just laughed about Aziraphale feeling out of place.

"And where will he sleep? I don’t want him to stab me in the middle of night", Hastur says while eating a piece of bread.

"He will sleep in my room for the beginning", the redhead answers him.

Aziraphale almost chockes on his potato. _What?! I’m gonna sleep in the same room like Crowley?!_ He would rather sleep outside than share a bed with the mafia boss.

"I-I will not s-sleep in your r-room", he stammers and can’t stop to blush again.

"Of course you will", Crowley replies coldly. "You tried to kill me yesterday… do you really believed I would just let you walk around in the mansion?"

Aziraphale doesn’t know what to answer, so he just continues eating and tries to ignore the rising fear inside of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the diner, Aziraphale recognizes that Crowley wasn’t kidding about him sleeping in his room. The blond feels so embarrassed that he doesn’t know what to do.

"I-I will not sleep in the same bed like you", he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the wall.

"You are a talented assassin and you’re getting nervous about sharing a bed, angel? That’s quite amusing, eh?", Crowley chuckles. "You can sleep in my bed or on the floor; it’s your choice."

Aziraphale still can’t believe how fast his life changed that much. "Aren’t you afraid that I will kill you when you are asleep?", he asks the mafioso.

"Just like last night, sweetie? I feel that you’re talented but you’re not capable of killing me."

Aziraphale sighs as he steps towards the bed. "I don’t have any… clothes to change. What am I supposed to wear for the night?"

Crowley lays already on one side of the bed, his lips turning into a mischievous grin. "Well, when you’re already asking me like that… you could just take off your clothes and lay right beside me, angel."

Aziraphale feels how he blushes even more. "S-Stop it, for Heavens Sake", he says. "Just give me some kind of pyjamas and I’m good."

Crowley chuckles as he points at the wardrobe. "I have to admit you look really cute when you blush, angel. Hastur bought you some clothes while you were still asleep in the morning."

Aziraphale grabs the first pyjama he sees and walks qickly into the bathroom. He recognizes that the fabric seems to be very expensive. The blonde still doesn’t understand why Crowley didn’t kill him. Maybe he will find out the reason when he gained the demon’s trust.

As he steps out of the bathroom, Crowley wink at him but Aziraphale ignores him. He takes a deep breath and lays down on his side of the bed. Just in this moment, the redhead moves closer to him until there’s almost no space between them anymore.

"Hey! That’s my side! Stay on your side of the bed!", Aziraphale squeaks.

"How can you have your own side when it’s _my_ bed, angel?"

 _This guy is going to drive me insane_ , the blond thinks desperately. "Just g-get away from m-me! That can’t be too much to ask", he says and turns away from him.

Aziraphale just hears Crowley chuckling again before he turns off the light. _Hopefully, he won’t touch me when I‘m asleep_ , Aziraphale thinks.

Tomorrow he has to think about a plan to escape this nightmare. Crowley told him that he’s a member of his gang now, but he doesn’t _know_ this guy. Maybe, he will just kill him when he’s no longer interested in playing with him. But Aziraphale doesn’t know if he can go back to Gabriel - he accepted to become a member of another gang; maybe his former boss would want to kill him too. He could also leave this whole city behind and starts a new life in Canada or America. Aziraphale just needs to escape the demons grip… he will think about it tomorrow. He has to find a way. _He has to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think of this story. :)  
> Greetings,  
> SporadicReader


	3. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains dark content! I feel so sorry for Zira in this chapter. ><  
> (P.S.: This is the edited version)

Aziraphale walks through the mansion, pretending to be bored. It has been four weeks since he is in this mansion and joined Crowley‘s gang. During these weeks, he found out a lot of useful information about the mafioso. Anthony J. Crowley is the only son of Lucifer Crowley Morningstar, one of the most known and dangerous mafia bosses in the entire world. Most of the time, Crowley‘s father stays in the United States and Aziraphale prays that he will never meet this guy. 

The blond also thought about a plan to escape the demon. He’s aware of the fact that he can’t go back to Gabriel because it would be the first place where Crowley would search him when he escapes him. So, he decided to hide a bag in his wardrobe, putting useful stuff inside of it time by time and run away when all of the other members aren’t in the mansion. 

As Aziraphale walks through the entrance hall, he sees the mafioso sitting in the garden, holding a glass of wine in his left hand. _Maybe I can get some more information from him when he’s drunk_ , Aziraphale thinks and walks towards Crowley. 

The demon looks up at him and the blond immediately recognizes that he’s actually drunk. _Very_ drunk. He’s not wearing sunglasses at the moment and his golden eyes seem to glow in the light of the dusk. That was one of the most frightening things Aziraphale has seen during the last weeks: the demon‘s eyes are quite familiar to the eyes of snakes.

"Angel! What a pleasure to find you joining me", Crowley says with a mischievous grin and pours some wine into another glass.

"O-Oh I actually don’t drink alcohol", Aziraphale stammers, looking at the glass of wine the mafioso is offering him. 

"Oh, come one, angel! It’s just one glass, for heaven’s sake!"

"Alright, but only one glass", he says and sits down next to Crowley. 

After a few minutes of no talking, the demon finally breaks the silence. 

"So, why don’t you tell me something about you, angel?"

Aziraphale almost chokes on his wine as he looks the demon, answering him: "There’s nothing interesting about me to talk about."

The mafioso chuckles as he takes another sip of this wine. "I’m sure that’s not true. But why don’t we start with something of your past, angel? What did you do before you became a member of Gabriel’s gang?"

Aziraphale bits his lips; he hates thinkin about his past. 

"I-I‘ve started to study law in Oxford when I was 18. It was quite… interesting and I loved solving criminal cases in the exams. After… Sam died, I stopped my studies and moved to London. I was 22 in this year. The last two years actually felt like ten years for me… it was a… hard time."

Crowley keeps his gaze on the blond as he slowly asks him: "Sam was your boyfriend who got killed by that assassin?"

Aziraphale looks on the table as he tries to fight back his tears. "He was my fiancé."

The demon can’t escape the feeling of jealousy that builds deep inside of him. Aziraphale… _his_ angel… had a fiancé and was happy. His cute little angel had another life and was happy… _without_ Crowley. 

"Someone who wanted to become a lawyer joined a mafia group… that’s quite amusing, eh?", was all he says instead. 

"Yeah, it is…", Aziraphale answers, drinking the last sip of his wine.

"Do you want another glass, angel?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"I would never do this", the redhead says innocently. "Also, I don’t have to get you drunk, angel…"

Before Aziraphale realizes what the mafioso means by that, the demon rises from his seat, pushes the blond further into his chair and tries to kiss his cheek. 

Aziraphale is more than relieved that his assassin skills allow him to slap Crowley’s in the face before he actually could touch his skin with his lips.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Crowley?! You don’t even know me and you just tried to… to…" Aziraphale isn’t capable of finishing his sentence because he desperately tries to hide his heavy blush. 

As the mafioso takes another step towards him, the blond tries to slap him again, harder this time, but Crowley stops him, turning his hand on his back. 

"It seems that you forgot that you’re not the only one here who has assassin skills, angel. And you’re still as weak as four weeks ago… didn’t I tell you that a killer needs to sharpen their blade?"

Aziraphale feels the anger rises inside of him. _I’m not weak_ , the thinks furiously. _I’m not weak; the pain I had to deal with during the last two year made me stronger._ Or doesn’t it?

The blond tries to escape the iron grip of Crowley‘s hand, struggling to stand up and show the mafioso that he’s anything but weak. 

The demon seems to be capable of reading Azirapahle‘s mind because, in the next moment, he changes the angle of his grip and throws him on the floor, making the younger man gasp in surprise and pain. 

"You know, obedient little angels aren’t that rude"…, Crowley whispers in his ear. 

"I told you to stop calling me that, you bastard!", Aziraphale growls at him, struggling to get away from the mafioso. "You’ll let me go right now, Crowley! Do your hear me?! Get the fuck away from me!"

Aziraphale feels his heart beating in his chest, but he tries to get rid of this feeling and looks the redhead straight into the face. He can’t get rid of the thought that it is his own fault that he’s in this situation now. He should have run away when he had the chance - he shouldn’t have wait four weeks for the perfect moment to escape the mafioso. It is _his_ fault that the broken pieces of his soul are going to shatter into thousand of pieces. But he won’t give up without a fight.  


_This bastard believes he broke my wings but he doesn’t know that I have claws_ , the blond thinks with determination. _I’ve been endured, I’ve been broken and I’ve lost everything that was important to me. I will never forget these harsh lessons in my life - I’ll prove that motherfucker that he is wrong._

In the next moment, the bites the demon’s finger that tried to put one of this blond curls behind his ear and manages to stand up again. 

"I won’t let you touch me, Crowley! So, fuck off!", Aziraphale growls as he sees the demon licking his own blood off of his finger. 

"Oh, angel… that was a terrible mistake", he chuckles and in the next moment, Crowley attacks him, trying to grab the blond‘s collar. 

Aziraphale successfully avoids contact with the demon but he has to admit that his speed and agility are dangerous. 

"You may think that your scars remind you of how you survived your deepest wounds and became strong, angel", the demon mocks him, his golden eyes glowing in the dying daylight. "But do you know what I think? They turn you into a _wreck_! You’re caught inside your memories and your past and that makes you terribly _weak_!"

Aziraphale winces at the demon’s words. He… he can’t be right. He’s not caught up inside his past… he’s not…

Crowley recognizes that he has hit the angel‘s weak spot with this comment and his lips turn into a mischievous grin. 

"You’re know I‘m right, sweetheart. I’m wondering what your beloved Sam would think of you when he could see you like that… being a wreck."

Aziraphale isn‘t capable of fighting back his tears and feels how they stream down his face. 

"You don’t know what you‘re talking about, you monster…", the blond whispers. 

"Oh, I‘m pretty sure I do, angel. If this idiot would be still alive, he would probably just leave you behind."

"Shut the fuck up!", Aziraphale screams at him and tries to attack him.

That is exactly what Crowley has planned: getting his angel blind with rage. 

He fends off the blond‘s attack, grabbing him by neck and pushes him down on the floor with his weight. 

The mafioso presses his forehead against Aziraphale‘s and looks straight into his blue eyes. 

"You’re so predictable, angel. You have to learn your place in this mansion and this is just a friendly reminder."

"My place is not _under_ you!", Aziraphale growls and spits the mafioso in his face. 

"Oh, my dear, naive angel. That’s _exactly_ where you belong and I’m gonna show it to you."

"No, you won’t! I will…" But whatever Aziraphale wants to say gets muffled as the demon forces his tongue into his mouth. He tries to bite Crowley‘s tongue but freezes in shock as the mafioso slowly pulls down his pants and underwear, making him gasp in shame and surprise.

Aziraphale can‘t believe that this is happening to him. _What did I do to deserve this?!_

The redhead licks away the tears from the younger man's cheeks, pressing his hand down on his throat. 

"C-Crowley - I can’t b-breath…", the blond sobs heartbroken, trying to kick the mafioso off of him. 

"You’re so adorable when you’re blushing angel", Crowley tells him, showing his white tears with a dangerous grin. 

For one moment, Aziraphale believe there’s actually a _real_ demon in front of him and shuts his eyes tightly. 

"Shh… it’s alright, sweetheart. We’re just gonna have a some fun. Nothing you need to be afraid of, eh?", Crowley whispers in his ear and the younger man shutters as he feels the mafioso‘s cold hands move under his sweater. 

"Crowley! I know you don’t want this! Please stop!"

"Well, but I _do_ , angel."

Aziraphale continues to beg him to stop but the demon ignores all of his desperate prays and just keep his hands running over the blond‘s trembling body. 

_This… this is just a nightmare. It’s just a fucking nightmare and when I wake up, everything will be okay,_ the young man tries to convince himself but a small voice inside of him tells him the exact opposite. 

Aziraphale chokes on the air as the demon starts to stroke his cock. 

"You want this too, angel. I can feel it", Crowley says breathlessly. 

"No, I don’t! Please stop this!"

As the mafioso‘s hand slowly moves from the blond‘s cock to his anus, Aziraphale believes he’s getting a panic attack. He see stars dancing in front of him and chokes on every single breath.

He knows that this is going to break his soul forever. He’s not strong enough to survive this. He‘s too exhausted from trying to be stronger than he feels - he won’t _survive_ this. He can’t. 

" _PLEASE DON‘T BREAK ME MORE THAN I ALREADY AM!_ ", Aziraphale screams with all his strength, feeling tears streaming down his face again. To his surprise, the demon actually stops. 

"What… what do you mean by 'breaking you more'?", Crowley whispers while standing up.

"I-I’m already b-broken. I wouldn’t be strong e-enough to pick up all the broken pieces of m-my soul again. Not again. I wouldn’t survive it when you break me even m-more than I already am…",Aziraphale answers breathlessly. 

Crowley blinks a few times at him, his golden eyes losing their hunger. He slowly realizes what he almost did to Aziraphale. He almost…

"Angel… I‘m so sorry", he says, trying to help the younger man to stand up. 

Aziraphale flinches away from him with fear in his blue eyes. "D-Don’t touch me, Crowley! Just stay away f-from me!" He picks up all of his clothes and runs to their bedroom, leaving Crowley alone in the garden. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale immediately locks the door behind him, wondering if Crowley would follow him but he hears nothing than his own beating heart. He leans against the door, hugging himself and letting the tears stream down his face. 

_Calm down, calm down, calm down_ …

Why did this happen to him? _Why_? He couldn’t even stopped the demon from attacking him - he’s still too weak. Just like two years ago. 

He recognizes that he has to leave this place right now and put his plan into action. He will run away - far, far away from this city, from this mansion and from… _Crowley_. 

Wiping his tears from his eyes, Aziraphale quickly grabs the bag he’s hiding in the wardrobe for weeks, checking wether it includes everything he needs. The money takes most of the space - the blond has found all of the demons hiding places in the mansion as he walked around and pretended not to care. Aziraphale is still unsure where he shall go though. 

_That’s something you can think of when you escaped this hell successfully_ , he thinks, grabbing the bag and putting it over his shoulders and notices the bruises on his arm. 

Aziraphale desperately tries to fight back his tears, walking towards the large window. 

He is lucky that all of the other members aren’t in the mansion right now, but Crowley could try to enter their… no, his bedroom any moment. 

So, Aziraphale opens the window without wasting more time and carefully climbing down. He doesn’t look back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley still stands in the garden, keeping his eyes on the dark sky and doesn’t know how much time has passed. 

The mafioso feels anger deep inside of him but he’s unsure wether is because of his thoughtless behaviour or because of the fact that Aziraphale didn’t want him. He has never felt this way for anyone else before; he wants to touch, kiss and own his beautiful angel. Crowley didn’t want to hurt him but maybe Aziraphale would’ve liked it when he just let Crowley take care of him. 

The demon hears steps coming from the entrance hall, but doesn’t move from his place he hears Hastur‘s voice. 

"Yo, boss, if I where you, I would close the window in your bedroom. You’re gonna freeze your ass off tonight."

Crowley slowly turns around and looks Hastur straight into the face. "What did you say?", he says menacingly. 

Hastur blinks a few times at him, unsure why the mafioso is that angry. 

"The… the window in your bedroom is… completely open. Did something happen?"

Without answering him, Crowley runs up the stairs to his bedroom, thinking about the meaning of this. He never lets the windows in his bedroom open when he’s not on there. Did Aziraphale just want to get some fresh air _or_ …

The demon tries to open the door, just to find out that it’s locked. 

"Aziraphale? Are you in there?", he asks furiously while knocking at the door. Nobody answers. 

"Aziraphale! Open the fucking door! NOW!"

Crowley curses and swears before calling for Hastur. 

"Hastur! Get your ass up here and help me kicking this fucking door down!"

Hastur doesn’t ask for the reason and just helps the demon to kick his bedroom door down. 

It is just like the demon has guessed: his bedroom is empty, most of Aziraphale‘s clothes are gone and the window is that open to allow somebody to climb down. His angel actually escaped him without anybody noticed. 

"He just climbed out of the window? Clever bastard…", Hastur mumbles. 

Crowley turns around, screaming at him: "Find him! Do all what is necessary to find him!"

"Yes, boss", he answers, running downstairs. 

The mafioso looks out of the window and suddenly starts to laugh dangerously. 

"Clever bastard… indeed", Crowley says to himself. But his angel won’t get too far - he willcatch him and chain him up in his mansion, punishing him for running away. Aziraphale only belongs to him and Anthony J. Crowley will get his property back at any cost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you have a wonderful day! :)  
> Greetings,  
> SporadicReader


	4. Camille

" _Shh… it’s alright, sweetheart. We’re just gonna have a some fun. Nothing you need to be afraid of, eh?", Crowley whispers in his ear and the younger man shutters as he feels the mafioso‘s cold hands move under his sweater._

_ "Crowley! I know you don’t want this! Please stop!" _

_ "Well, but  _ I _ do, angel." _

_ Aziraphale continues to beg him to stop but the demon ignores all of his desperate prays and just keep his hands running over the blond‘s trembling body. _

_ This… this is just a nightmare. It’s just a fucking nightmare and when I wake up, everything will be okay, the young man tries to convince himself but a small voice inside of him tells him the exact opposite. _

_ Aziraphale chokes on the air as the demon starts to stroke his cock. _

_ "You want this too, angel. I can feel it", Crowley says breathlessly. _

_ "No, I don’t! Please stop this!" _

Aziraphale can’t stop himself from having this flashback again. It keeps haunting him since the day he escaped Crowley‘s mansions four months ago. 

Usually, he wakes up every night, hearing the demon‘s voice inside his head and feels how his hands move all over his body again. But since a few weeks, he can’t even get rid of these memories during day. 

Before he met Crowley, Aziraphale often had nightmares about how he found Sam‘s corpse that was covered by burns and cuts. He could feel how the wound his death left behind slowly closed during the last years but Crowley’s attack cut it open again - and made everything worse than before. 

Sometimes, it just feels like he’s drowning in his own fucking head; Crowley made him recognize that emotional pain is different than physical pain. The brain is more willing and capable of recalling the feelings of every single kind of pain you’ve discovered in your life. It does not only remember the details, but the _feelings_ \- very vividly. And that is exactly what causes Aziraphale to be unable to remember what it’s like to not feel broken. 

Right after the blond escaped the mafioso, he was wondering if he should leave the country or just hides in another city. He decided to drive to York, hoping that Crowley won’t see what’s right under his nose and thinks that he has left Europe to get as far away as possible from him. 

Aziraphale bought any kind of tickets he could get - flight tickets to the United States, Australia, Canada, Mexico, Sweden, France and so on. He wanted to make it impossible for the demon to be hundred percent sure where he exactly hides. 

Right after Aziraphale arrived in York, he often spent time in a club to get rid of his feelings by drinking alcohol.

The owner, Camille Dupond, started running the " _Diamond_ " after her wife got shot by another mafia boss. She is in her early thirties, has curly brown hair and is absolutely obsessed with every dress she can find around the world. Camille is proud of the very rare police raids in her club because it allows her to do all kinds of criminal businesses. Even though she told him that she acted under the guise of following her wife‘s orders, Aziraphale quickly recognized from the way the brunette talks about her that she deeply loved her. 

The young man met her as he visited her club to get rid of the haunting memories of Crowley by drinking more glasses of whisky than he was able to count. 

After almost all of the guests were gone, she asked him what makes him look that depressed. Being absolutely drunk, Aziraphale told her everything: that a mafia boss forced him to join his gang, almost raped him before he was capable of escaping him and that he is on the run from him now. Camille told him that she knows exactly how he is feeling and offers him to stay in the room above her club that she usually offers for rent. Aziraphale immediately agreed and spending time with her every day during the last four months made her become a friend of him very quickly. 

Right now, Aziraphale sits in the back room of the _Diamond_ , reading one of Camille‘s novels. The brunette has the same book taste like him and way more books than he could ever read.

"You’re reading this book again, Zira? I have so many great novels and you’re just reading the same ones over and over again", a female voice says. 

Aziraphale looks up from his current read, seeing how Camille enters the room with a cup of coffee in her hand. 

"I know your other books are fantastic, Cam, but this one is quite interesting", Aziraphale says with a small smile. "Besides, I don’t pay attention on how many cups of coffee you’re drinking per day, so just let me read my book."

She chuckles as she plays with one of her brown curls. "You are really mean, eh? You know that I have trouble sleeping and would die without coffee. And this is just the… uhm…"

"The eighth cup", Aziraphale interrupts her. 

Even though the last months were like hell to him, he can’t deny that Camille helped him to not loosing himself completely- she becomes a small light in the endless darkness for him and Aziraphale is grateful that he has met her. 

"I thought you are not paying attention on how many cups I‘m actually drinking, Zira?", Camille says with an amused grin. 

"I‘m an assassin… I notice everything around me. I can’t even stop it."

The brunette slowly moves towards the couch, putting her coffee on the table next to it and looks worried at him. 

"Aziraphale?" 

The young man knows that she wants to talk with him about a serious topic when she calls him 'Aziraphale' instead of just 'Zira'. So, he puts his book next to her coffee cup on the table and looks into Camille‘s green eyes. 

"Yeah?"

"Why are you being so hard to yourself? You know… everything that happened to you wasn’t _your_ fault", Camille says. "Your practice your knife-skills almost every day since I’ve met you. Sometimes, you just need a break."

Aziraphale tries to fight back his tears as he answers her. "I know it wasn’t my fault, Cam. But I don’t ever want to feel weak again and I can’t get rid of the feeling that… no matter how much time passes by, I will always have a _weak spot_ somewhere inside of me. And that terrifies the hell out of me."

The blond sees deep understanding in Camille‘s face as she lays her hand on his own trembling one. 

"But it’s normal for human beings to have weak spots, Zira. We can’t change that, no matter how hard we’re trying to gain the strength we’re searching for. Besides, talking can be very helpful sometimes and I’ll be always there for you, Zira."

Aziraphale suddenly recognizes that words cannot describe how grateful he is to call Camille his friend. 

"Thank you, Cam. For everything. But I’ve been always the human type that suffers in silence because I don’t want to bother other people with my stupid problems."

"Don’t call your problems stupid. _No_ problem is stupid", Camille tells him and Aziraphale feels that she actually meant what she just say. 

"Thanks so much, Camille", the young man says again and smiles at her. 

The brunette playfully kicks him in the ribs. "So, that’s enough serious talking for today. You know, I just thought that if you weren’t gay, I could believe you start falling for me."

Aziraphale laughs brightly as he grabs his book again. "Funny that you mention that; I just thought if you weren’t a lesbian, I would think that you’re falling for me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carefully, Aziraphale climbs on the roof of the building and holds the whisky the brought with him under his arm. He spends every evening on the roof of the Diamond, watching the sun disappear behind the houses. 

But even by drinking alcohol, he can still sees Crowley‘s face in front of him, grinning mockingly at him. The blond wonders what the mafioso is doing right now but immediately bites on his lips to get rid of this thought. _Foolish_. It is nothing but foolish that he allows the demon to affect his life that much.  


_He will not be the cause that I’m falling and never be capable of standing up again_ , Aziraphale thinks and let himself feel nothing but anger and hate. It’s easier than letting the quiet darkness take control over the broken pieces of his soul and drags him down without mercy. 

" _But do you know what I think? They turn you into a wreck! You’re caught inside your memories and your past and that makes you terribly weak!"_

He hears the demon‘s voice inside his head again, feeling how the panic grows in his heart and the terrible tightness in his throat - the same strangling grief that comes everytime he imagines what has happened to him. And he has nobody on this side who helps him dealing with these emotions. 

"When are you going to admit that you’re on your own, you coward?", Aziraphale whispers to himself. "You’re _alone_ and nothing will ever change that."

He knows that Camille offered him to talk about his problems but it’s too much to ask after everything she has done and risk for him. 

There is a small ringing in his ears that turns mercilessly into a roar. Aziraphale feels nothing than a too-familiar wave of numbness, a lack of emotions that feels just like he is drowning. He doesn’t know why something like that happened to him. He doesn’t _know_. 

It would be so nice to be with Sam right now - the only person who knows everything about him. It would be really, really nice. Aziraphale can’t stop his tears streaming down his face and with each one that drops on the roof, that flickering flame inside of him is dying a little bit more. And goes out.

_ Is it even possible to fall deeper and deeper when you are already in Hell? _

_No, you have to stop thinking about it. Stop it. Just go back down and spend the rest of the evening with Camille_ , he tells himself and climbs slowly down. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Aziraphale steps into the back room of the club, he’s wondering about the silence. Usually, Camille calls her best friend after closing to talk about their day or a pretty woman she has seen in the club. But right now, he can’t find the brunette or her phone that always lays at the same place when she’s not using it in the moment. The only thing he can see on the table is an envelope with his name written on it. 

_Maybe she left a note for me_ , Aziraphale thinks, grabbing the envelope. He wonders about the cold paper and the heavy weight it has for just including a letter but quickly opens it anyway. What is inside of it makes him gasp in fear and surprise. It’s not a letter or quick note from Camille - it is a black brooch in the shape of a _serpent_. 

Frozen in shock, he just holds it in his trembling hand, not capable of turning his gaze off of the serpent‘s golden eyes. 

Just a heartbeat later, the phone of the club rings and almost drags a chocked scream out of him. 

Aziraphale slowly grabs the telephone receiver, keeping his eyes on the brooch like it is Crowley himself who stares at him with his golden eyes. 

"H-Hello?", he whispers and tries to let his voice sound normal but fails miserably. 

"Hello, angel…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m sorry for the cliffhanger. 😅


	5. The Call

"Hello, angel…"

"C-Crowley?", Aziraphale stammers, forcing himself to calm down - he has to be able to make clear decisions now, and can’t allow the panic to take over him. But the fact that Crowley calls him on the club‘s phone and not just on his smartphone means… means that the mafioso knows exactly where he is right now. 

"Aw, I’m so flattered that you didn’t forget my voice during the last months, angel", the demon answers him and every single word cuts deeper and deeper into Aziraphale‘s soul. "Have you found my present? I’m sure you’ll look wonderful wearing it along with the new suits I got you."

The young man looks at the black brooch in his hand again, letting it fall down like it just burned his skin. 

"I-I won’t come back, Crowley." It sounds like he has a choice, but Aziraphale knows deep inside of him that the mafioso didn’t ask a question. 

"We‘ll see about that, angel. In less than an hour, you’ll _beg_ me to take you home."

The young man feels how the anger slowly rises inside of him. _What makes that bastard think that I will do that?!_ , he thinks furiously. 

"Your mansion is not _my_ home, Crowley. And it will never be."

Aziraphale hears a dark chuckle on the other end of the line. 

"You’ll learn that as well, sweetheart. But, you know, I have to admit… I didn’t think that you would be capable of hiding yourself four months from me. Such a clever angel."

_Why is he talking so much? Does he just want to gain time?_ Aziraphale has seen nobody in the area of the _Diamond_ as he came back inside, so Crowley and his members aren’t around the club. _But when he knows where I am, why is no one here?_

"I thought you were the one who said that I have skills? So, I did nothing else than using these skills to stay the fuck away from you", the blond growls into the phone. 

"Aw, you’re so adorable when you get angry, angel. I can’t wait to look into your blue eyes again. Honestly, I thought that you would leave Europe. Who would have guessed that you were right under my nose the whole time…"

"Well, in that case, it seems that I worried way too much… you’re not as smart as I feared when it took you four months to find that out."

Aziraphale hears the mafioso growling on the other end of the line. 

"If I were you, angel, I would stop getting me angry. Especially when I’m holding a gun to your pretty friend‘s head right now."

Aziraphale‘s heart stops for a moment. Does the mafioso mean… mean Camille?!

"I-I don’t know what y-you are talking about, Crowl…"

"Oh, I‘m pretty sure you do, angel", Crowley interrupts him. "Your little brown haired friend with those pretty green eyes. You know, if I wouldn’t know that you’re gay, I would be pretty jealous right now. Besides, it wasn’t easy to make that slut admitting that you care about her."

_This can’t be true! Camille is safe! She just went shopping or… or…_ , Aziraphale thinks while the panic seems to control his mind. 

"Y-You’re lying. Camille isn’t… with you", the young man whispers but he knows that Crowley is telling the truth. 

"But she is, sweetheart. It wasn’t easy to get that bitch here though, but she had no chance against three of my men."

_It is my fault_ , the blond recognizes, feeling a familiar tightness in his throat. _It is my fault if Cam gets hurt because I chose to stay here and let her become a part of my life._

"C-Crowley, if you harm her, I’ll kill you for this! I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way!"

"Aw, I really missed how it feels when you threat me, angel. But let me tell you something now: I will break you in the most beautiful way and when it’s done, you will finally understand where you belong to. I’ll make you _fall_ , _angel_ , and watch every second of it."

"Shut the fuck up, you monster! Let. Her. Go!", Aziraphale screams in the telephone receiver, trying to force back his tears. _I won’t be capable of forgiving myself if something happens to Cam!_

"Nah, I won’t, angel", Crowley laughs mockingly. "But why don’t you come to us? We’re in the abandoned warehouse on the east side of the city. Come alone or your slut will pay the price."

Aziraphale feels his mind racing as he tries to understand the mafioso‘s words. He wants him to come to the abandoned warehouse? This is obviously a trap. 

"Oh, and angel… I would hurry if I were you. Hastur is pretty angry that the bitch punched him right into the face. I don’t know how long I can stop him from seeking… revenge. So, run, my pretty angel, _run_ …"

"Crowley, you will…", Aziraphale screams but the demon has already hang up. 

Without wasting any time, the young man runs downstairs to his room, grabbing his bag along with two knives and a gun. 

_Maybe, Cam and I will need the money to leave this country far, far behind_ , he thinks and storms out of the club. 

Aziraphale runs through the streets of York, praying that he won’t be too late and reaches the warehouse before Camille… before Camille…

Somewhere in the middle of the city rings the bell of a church and every single toll reminds him of how his time is running away. 

At this time, there aren’t many people on the streets and Aziraphale ignores all of them as he runs past them. He doesn’t care about the sharp pain in his lungs and just focuses on keep moving his legs in the direction of the abandoned warehouse. 

The rising fear inside his heart makes it difficult to concentrate though. _What shall I do when Crowley is going to hurt her?,_ Aziraphale asks himself, feeling a terrible tightness in his throat and the small ringing in his ears turns mercilessly into a roar. _I’ll destroy him when he tries to harm Cam._

_And what do you do when he already had?_ , whispers a dark voice inside of him, causing him to do everything to run faster. He can finally sees the conture of the roof, shining in the bright moonlight. 

_Not again. Please, I don’t want to lose someone again_ , the blond thinks with every step and every beat of his heart. _Please_!

Aziraphale knows that he can’t just walk through the main entrance; Crowley or other members of his gang would stop him immediately and his ultimate goal is saving Camille. Finally, he reaches the fence in front of the building, the blood in his temples rushes almost louder than his beating heart as Aziraphale slowly climbs the metal fence. 

He lands on a small path, feeling blood run over his cheek because of the sharp thorns of a nearby bush. The young man just ignores the sting, standing up and runs to a side entrance of the warehouse. 

First, he will try his luck in finding Camille in one of the rooms, hopefully, with nobody who is guarding her and after she’s is safe he will make every single person in this building deeply regret what they have done. Aziraphale doesn’t care about how many of Crowley‘s members are here - he will destroy them one by one. 

As the blond slowly walks through the building, he suddenly sees blood on the floor, shining on the bright moonlight. 

Aziraphale‘s freezes in shock for a moment. _No, please don’t!_

His heart races as he follows he blood drops which lead him to a big room with heavy doors. Without hesitating, he opens it and the first thing he sees are the glowing eyes of Crowley. 

"Welcome, angel…", the mafioso purrs without taking his golden eyes off of Aziraphale. The blond sees him holding a gun in his left hand and a knife in his right hand. Camille is tied up to a chair in front of the demon and Aziraphale can see blood running down from her lips. This is his fault… all of this. 

"Cam… I‘m so sorry… I", he begins but doesn’t know how to continue. It his fault that she got hurt. 

"I know it isn’t you fault, Zira. You don’t have to apologize", she whispers and to his surprise, Aziraphale hears no fear in her voice. 

"Zira? Well, if that isn’t adorable", Crowley laughs out loud. "You guys probably even made sleepovers like some foolish students, eh?"

"Crowley! Let her go! Now", the blond screams and ignores the mock, holding his two knives straight into the mafioso‘s direction. 

"Who said that I will let this slut go, angel?", Crowley says innocently and holds his gun at Camille‘s head. 

Aziraphale‘s heart stops for a moment; he has to convince the demon to let her go.

"Please, Crowley, I beg you. Let her go… and I… will come with you without any protest."

"No, Zira, don’t do…" Camille begins but the mafioso slaps her in the face to silence her. 

"Didn’t I mention that you’ll beg me to take you home, angel?", the demons smiles mischievously at him. "But it doesn’t change anything. You need a proper punishment to learn to never run away from me again. Besides, I won’t let this slut get away without being punished for hiding you from me."

Aziraphale feels like the panic takes control of his mind. 

"Please, she doesn’t know that I was hiding from you! I told her that…"

"You’re a pretty bad liar, angel. She knows exactly that you were hiding", Crowley growls, still holding his gun towards Camille. 

"No, please don’t! I will do anything you want me to do! Please let her go, Crowley! _Please_!"

"By running away, you disappointed me, angel. So, I have to give you a punishment."

Camille whimpers as the gun presses harder against her head and Aziraphale feels how something deep inside of him shatters. 

"No, please don’t!", he screams at the demon and sees how his golden eyes are seem to glow in the bright light. 

The tightness in his throat causes to make him feel completely numb and without realizing what is exactly happening, he merely notices how Crowley throws away his gun, grabbing his knife harder with his right hand and stabs it right into Camille‘s heart. 

" _NO!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes me so sad… ><


	6. Loss

_ "NO!" _

Aziraphale‘s mind is not capable of understanding what is exactly happening right now. His vision is completely blurred as Crowley slowly pulls the knife out of Camille’s chest, cutting the bonds that tied her to the chair, causing her to fall on the ground without a noise. 

The young man stumbles helplessly towards her, falling on his knees and carefully takes her face in his trembling hands. Her green eyes have lost any spark of life. 

"No, this can’t be true… it can’t be true", Aziraphale whispers while tears streaming down his face. "Come back. Please come back to me, Cam. Don’t leave me here alone, I need you. _Please!"_

Aziraphale looks at Camille‘s body. Her emerald green dress seems to turn black at a few spots from all the blood. The ringing in his ears - his heartbeat- are turning louder and louder until he hears nothing else. 

Camille isn’t here anymore. Her strong, beautiful and wonderful soul is gone - just like a flickering, dying flame that just went out - and there’s nothing Aziraphale can do to change that. Camille is gone. _Gone_. 

He thinks it mercilessly, over and over again - still to afraid to admit the meaning of these words - until he’s capable of taking the final step: _Camille is dead_. 

_ But why does this had to happen to her?! Why her?!_

Aziraphale asks this question so often because he knows the answer; he just hates facing it, as painful as it is. Camille died because of _him_. He ran away from the mafioso and allowed her to become a part of his life - allowed her to become his new _weak point._ The perfect weak point for Anthony J. Crowley to attack to get Aziraphale back. 

Camille‘s hand is still warm as the blond slowly grabs it and holding it closely to his chest, apologizing in his mind - a hundred times, a thousand times, too often to count. _This is all my fault_ , he thinks, noticing how the tears continue to stream down his cheeks. _It is_ my _fault_. 

Aziraphale looks at Camille‘s hand and recognizes that her favourite vintage ring is covered completely in blood. He can’t stop the memories fleeting his mind. 

_ Have I ever mentioned that I’m obsessed with vintage jewelry, Zira? It’s so freaking beautiful! Probably just a hundred times, Cam. Hahah. Pah, you‘re exaggerating. I just love the fact that every piece tells a story… and memories are a timeless treasure of the heart. When I’m dead, I would love the idea that other people are going to wear my rings or necklaces- it’s like you never really gone if they actually do.  _

_I’m sorry, Cam… for everything_ , Aziraphale thinks as he carefully takes the ring off of her finger and puts it on his index finger. _I’m so sorry._

The blond hears somebody calling his name but he doesn’t move from his spot. Crowley kneels down right next to him, his golden eyes are looking straight into his blue ones. Aziraphale can‘t stop letting the tears stream down over his already wet face. The mafioso‘s cold fingers slowly moves to his cheek, wiping a tear away and carefully moves over his bleeding scratch. 

"Aziraphale."

_He_ did this. The fingers move closer to his chin, forcing the blond to look right into the golden eyes. 

"Aziraphale."

He did this, Aziraphale thinks again. He ordered his men to get Cam forcefully here. He tied her up to the chair and let them punch her in the face. He stabbed his knife directly… in her heart. He did _all_ of this. 

" _Aziraphale_ ", the demon says again and it sounds like nothing more than a warning this time.

Crowley didn’t even think about letting her go. He would have kill her no matter what choice Aziraphale made. He has planned it. He has planned all of this. 

_But let me tell you something now: I will break you in the most beautiful way and when it’s done, you will finally understand where you belong to. I’ll make you fall, angel, and I’ll watch every second of it._

The demon just wanted to make him suffer for running away. He would have done all of this no matter what Aziraphale chose to do. 

_ By running away, you disappointed me, angel. So, I have to give you a punishment. _

Something inside of Aziraphale breaks into thousand of pieces and makes him strike forward. 

Crowley is hardly capable of dodging as Aziraphale‘s knife brushes over his left cheek, leaving a scratch. The blond pushes him against the wall and tries to get his knife close enough to his throat, but the mafioso quickly grabs his wrists. Aziraphale struggles to escape his grip, trying to reach the gun on his belt but Crowley throws it on the other end of the room before the blond can try to reach it again. 

"Why don’t we stop this nonsense now, angel, and you just let me take you home", the mafioso says, blood running over his cheek. 

_ He act like nothing happened!  _

"Didn’t I tell you that your mansion ist _not_ my fucking home?!", Aziraphale screams and tries to ram his knee into Crowley‘s stomach, but the mafioso slaps him so hard in the face that he stumbles back a few steps. 

"You actually became stronger, angel. But we should end this now; haven’t we all suffered enough from this situation?"

_ How dare he?! How dare he to say that he’s suffering as well?! The only one who paid the price for all of this is Camille! _

" _Why_ have you done this?! I told you that I would come willingly with you! You didn’t need to hurt her! She didn’t _deserve_ this!"

Aziraphale attacks him again, hissing like a wild animal. Four months ago, he wouldn’t have last a fight against Crowley that long, but he actually got stronger. He practiced his skills every day until his knives almost become a part of him and the time he was allowed to spend with Camille also gives him strength. Crowley may think that she’s his weak point but the truth is that _she_ made it even possible for him to gain strength. 

_ But it’s normal for human beings to have weak spots, Zira. We can’t change that, no matter how hard we’re trying to gain the strength we’re searching for. Besides, talking can be very helpful sometimes and I’ll be always there for you. _

Aziraphale didn’t recognize how right Camille was - it’s more than normal for human beings to have weak points. But these weak points can also become your greatest _strength_. 

"I know you don’t want this, angel", Crowley says, sweat is running down of his forehead. "You just need someone who takes care of you. So just let me…"

"No", Aziraphale interrupts him with a firm voice. "No. The man you may think to knowdoes no longer exists - this person died in the moment you stabbed the knife right into Camille‘s heart! So don’t you dare tell me that I don’t want this! Don’t you dare tell me that I need someone who takes care of me! And don’t dare tell me what’s _good_ for me!"

With that, Aziraphale runs straight towards the mafioso, holding his knife tightly in his hand. The young man knows that he can’t beat him today. Even when he’s capable of killing Crowley, he is pretty aware of the fact that the rest of his gang is waiting for him outside. Therefore, he has to manage to escape the demon again to avenge Camille. 

So, Aziraphale pretends to stab his knife right into Crowley‘s throat, but letting it drop right before the mafioso, seeing how is golden eyes are only focused on the blade that hits the ground with a loud noise. Not even a heartbeat later, the blond punches Crowley hard in the face, causing his head to hit the wall behind him with a thud, making his vision blurry. 

Without hesitating, Aziraphale turns around, looking one last time at Camille‘s dead body and runs out of the room. 

Crowley feels blood running from his nose and he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand. His angel really became stronger - and escaped him again. But this time, he won’t allow him to hide from him for four months or even longer. Aziraphale just doesn’t now what’s good for him, but the mafioso will show him what he needs. He calls Hastur on his phone, hearing blood dripping down on the ground. 

"Yo, boss. Did you catch him?"

"I had him but the little shit is stronger than four months ago", Crowley growls into his phone. 

"Shall we come inside as well?"

"No, I need you outside in case he manages to get out of the building. I’ll take care of what’s happening in here. And I won’t let him run away again; he has to understand where his place is."

With that, Crowley ends the call and slowly starts to follow his prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I don’t know if I’ll be able to update next week because I have to study for exams, but I hope I find time to write chapter 7 as soon as possible! :)


	7. An Angel Fell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m quite happy that I finished writing this chapter last night. University is crazy right now but writing is always a perfect way to relax. :)

Without turning around, Aziraphale keeps running and running, feeling his lungs starting to ache. _Shit, shit, shit… where am I supposed to go?!_ He’s aware of the fact that Crowley will do anything to stop him from running away again - he probably even started following him right now. But even if the blond manages to get out of the warehouse somehow, he will also have to deal with Crowley‘s people outside. 

_I need to rest for a moment… just for one moment._ It doesn’t help him at all when he uses the rest of his strength to put as much distance as possible between him and Crowley. 

The young man finds a large storage room and hides behind some of the large cartons, trying to catch his breath. He starts to recognize how his body slowly comes down from the rush of adrenaline, causing him to feel every aspect of exhaustion from the last hour. His cheek is still aching from the bleeding scratch and the way Crowley slapped him but he doesn’t care about the physical pain right now - the scar that the last hour left on his _soul_ hurts so much more. 

Aziraphale feels the sticky, cold blood on his trembling hands and under his nails. _Cam‘s blood._ Even though it’s nothing more than a small consolation, he hopes that the scratch his knife cut in Crowley‘s cheek is going to leave a scar too. 

The demon didn’t even consider to let Camille go; all he wanted is making Aziraphale suffer. And because he let the panic and despair taking control of his mind, he wasn’t capable of seeing the demon‘s true intentions. He was so naive to believe in the flickering glimmer of hope that everything is going to be okay - that he would be capable of _saving_ Camille. He is nothing more then a fool. 

"He killed her because of me… it is all my fault", Aziraphale whispers into the darkness, feeling the urge to say it out loud. 

The young man looks at her blood-covered ring, the white diamond shimmers softly in the moonlight and he has trouble to fight his tears back. _Is is so absurd… it is so absurd that my heart is still beating and Cam’s doesn’t._ Aziraphale wonders how many times a heart can break till it stops healing - how much hurt a heart can take till is stops beating. He has suffered so much during the last years and doesn’t know how to handle the pain deep inside of him anymore. 

Suddenly, Aziraphale hears steps coming closer and closer to him, causing him to cover his mouth with his hand to muffle the noises of his breathing.

_Fuck… how does the know which direction I chose?!_ , the blond thinks desperately. _I have to get out of this fucking warehouse!_

"Angel… we are a little bit too old to play hide and seek, eh? Just come out and I will forget that you… tried to run away again."

Aziraphale doesn’t move from his spot and continues to hold his breath as he hears the mafioso‘s voice echoing through the room. 

"Just let me take you home…"

The blond recognizes how Crowley keeps moving straightly into his direction and desperately thinks about a way to escape. _Maybe there’s a chance that I can get out of one of the upstairs window,_ he thinks, still pressing his hand firmly on his mouth. 

Aziraphale hears the demon whistling and the sharp sound of metal on metal as he lets his knife run over the wall. 

"Come on, angel. You don’t need to be afraid… I’ll take care of you."

_Fucking bastard_ , the young man thinks and feels how the anger rises inside of him as he slowly moves toward the staircase to get upstairs. Aziraphale curses loudly in his mind as some broken pieces of glass crack under his shoes but he feels relieved that the many cartons in this room are perfect for hiding. 

" _Aziraphale_!" 

The blond winces and is barely capable of holding back a chocked scream as Crowley shouts his name furiously. His voice seems to come from every direction at once. 

_He’s trying to scare and confuse me_ , Aziraphale recognizes as he slowly walks up the stairs step by step. _Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep…_

Before he can take the last step to get upstairs, a knife flashes by his head and gets stuck in the wall in front of him. Aziraphale quickly turns around, taking a few steps back as the mafioso starts to walk upstairs as well. 

"Next time, it won’t hit the wall, _Zira_."

Aziraphale feels the colour draining from his face but he won’t give the mafioso the pleasure of seeing how much his calling him Zira hurts. The only person who called him that isn’t here anymore. He tightens the grip on his knives and then forces himself to calm down. 

"You’re lying", Aziraphale answers him. "You don’t want to break you favourite toy yet."

Crowley ignores his comment and walks closer and closer. Aziraphale slowly moves, mirroring Crowley across the room and taking one step back for every step the demon takes toward him. 

"Poor little Camille Dupond", the mafioso says mockingly. "So hopeful that her friend would come for her and is even capable of saving her. I had to tell her that assassins don’t have friends. They’re heartless, cold and don’t have attachments of any kind. Therefore, I told this slut that you’re probably so scared of me that you just left the country and never coming back. I’m actually happy to be wrong."

"I don’t know who taught you that but you should have asked for better lessons."

Crowley chuckles darkly as they continue to slowly circle each other. 

"You know you wouldn’t be capable of saving her, eh?"

"I could have, if you would have given me a chance", the young man tells him. "I would have come with you and would never dare to run away if you would have let her go. I _could_ have saved her." 

In this moment, his words feel like they are true despite the pain that lays underneath them. He ignores the ache in his chest and refocuses on his sense of balance, on _Crowley_. 

"Just keep believing it if it helps you sleeping, angel", the demon says mockingly.

"Shut the fuck up, you monster!"

"It seems like you’re forgetting who you’re talking to", Crowley growls at him. "Come on, angel. You know that I‘m your friend. I could also be a little more than that if you want to…"

Aziraphale stares at him, gasping through clenched teeth and breathing faster and faster before he yells out loudly: "You will never be my friend or anything like that! You will only be my _enemy_ ; nothing will ever change that!"

"We will see, angel…", the mafioso says, finally starting to attack him.

Aziraphale tracks the movements of the mafioso‘s shoulders, elbows and wrists, pushing them away so that they always miss their targets. Furious, Crowley doubles his efforts, striking for his legs and chest but hits nothing then Aziraphale’s blade which blocks every single attack, creating sparks as their blades clashing.

"Impressive."

"You’re easily impressed", Aziraphale says. "I’m only just getting started."

But that’s a lie. The young man feels how the mental and physical exhaustion robs every single drop of the rest of his strength - he won’t be able to handle this combat much longer. 

"If I were you, angel, I would enjoy this fight. It will be the last time that you fight against me with your fucking beloved knives. When we’re at home, I will never let you touch a knife again - you can be grateful when I allow you to spend time in the garden. You’re mine, don’t forget that, angel."

"I will never be yours! Never!"

Aziraphale swings around his knives and hits Crowley‘s blade with a loud noise, kicking him hard in the stomach. The mafioso stumbles back, falls down on one of his knees and the blond moves forward for the final blow. 

Suddenly, the demon jumps up and stops his attack without any effort. 

_T-That was just a trick?!_ , Aziraphale thinks panically. He feels how his knives are pressed down by the demon‘s in one single movement and within a heartbeat, Crowley disarms him, pressing him against the railing with full force. 

Aziraphale feels the cold metal of the mafioso‘s blade pressing against his flesh as he breaths heavily. 

"You lost, angel. Do yourself a favour and just come with me."

_ No! I will not give up - I can’t give up! _

"I’ll never come with you without any protest, Crowley!", he replies and spits the demon in the face. "Why don’t you just kill me too?! I’d rather die than coming with you!"

"Oh, angel. I have loved you for your stubbornness from the very first moment. But you were right… I don’t want to break my favourite toy yet when I’m already aware of how to use it properly for both our pleasure. And if you don’t come with me without protest, I just call Hastur and…"

The mafioso starts tapping on his phone but he can’t finish his sentence because a loud cracking sound silences him. Aziraphale feels the railing behind him tilting backwards and desperately tries to grab something to stop himself from falling. Before Crowley is capable of grabbing his collar, the blond already has lost his balance and can’t stop himself from falling down. The demon‘s golden eyes which are open widely because of his surprise and shock, and his hand reaching out for him are the last things Aziraphale sees before he falls and falls until the world suddenly turns black around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know this cliffhanger is so mean… 😅


	8. Broken Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the beginning of this chapter wasn’t easy, even though I’m a huge fan of Grey‘s Anatomy. xD

"We have to get the MRI first! It is possible that he bleeds internally after the fall!"

"But I can see no damages on his body except of a few bruises and scratches… I think the CT screen is way more important right now. The worst case that’s possible is that his brain suffers permanent injuries."

"We have to hurry! Go!"

_ So many voices. It’s so loud… it’s just too loud.  _

"His pupils are dilated; we have to go to the surgery room right now!"

_ It’s too loud. Why is everybody screaming?  _

"If you kill him, I’ll make every single person in this fucking hospital going to _regret_ it! Do whatever is necessary to save him!"

_ Who’s voice is that? Have… have I ever heard it before? _

"How could this happen, boss? I thought…"

"I don’t know how this happened, Hastur. It all happened so fast… the fucking railing was damaged and… and I couldn’t stop him from falling down. This would have never happened if he didn’t run away."

_ Running away? Why did I run away from someone? _

"But think about it, boss. The doctor spoke about a possible amnesia - that means that he won’t even remember what happened to that fucking slut. It will be like the last months didn’t happen."

"I should be capable of saving him from falling down though…"

_ I will break you in the most beautiful way and when it’s done, you will finally understand where you belong to. I’ll make you fall, angel, and watch every second of it. Is this a memory or am I just hallucinating? Falling… falling like an angel whose shining white feathers turn just as black as the hell he‘s falling in. Like an angel who falls through the soft clouds right in the hellfire, using his dark feathers to cover all his tears and emotions from the flames around. Like an angel who is one of the fallen now, looking up with tears in his blue eyes and the face I see is me: an angel who has lost all worth flying for. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale wakes up slowly and immediately has to squint his eyes because the sun is shining too bright, causing his head to throb. He tries to carefully stand up but decides to keep laying down as his head is spinning and he feels completely dizzy. 

"Angel! You’re awake! Can… can you say something? You woke up a few times during the last week but blacked out shortly after it every time."

Aziraphale slowly turns his head around, seeing a red-haired man with dark sunglasses sitting right next to his bed. "I… where am I?"

"You’re at home, angel. The doctors said it’s still necessary that you are constantly monitored, so our general practitioner comes several times a day." _At home? What does he mean that I’m at home?_

"I-I don’t understand… where am I and… who are you?" Crowley has a strange glance in his eyes as he slowly sits down on the edge of the bed. 

"They talked about that too; they said that it’s possible for you to suffer from sudden amnesia because of your… accident." 

The mafioso takes Aziraphale‘s trembling hand in his own and points at the vintage-style ring he wears on his ring finger. "I’m Anthony J. Crowley… your fiancé. I asked you two weeks before this all happened."

Aziraphale looks shocked at the ring on his finger and actually feels something like familiarity that completely warms his heart. But, at the same time, he can’t get rid of the feeling of deep despair and pain as he sees the white diamond sparkling in the bright sunlight. "I… I am engaged?! Why can’t I remember? I can remember nothing at all!"

Panic seems to overwhelm the younger man, increasing the throbbing in his head. _I can’t believe this! How can it be possible that I’m engaged and can’t remember anything at all?!_

Crowley tightens the grip around his hand and, for a brief moment, a shadow flickers across his face. "I’m so sorry, angel… it is all my fault. The night the accident happened, we had a… fight and you took one of our cars while being drunk and had a car accident. The doctors said it borders on a miracle that you only got a few bruises except of the… head injuries."

_I was drunk? But… but I drink so rarely._ But as Aziraphale tries to remember what has happened that night, he only sees black images in his mind. He only remembers that he dropped out of law college, moved to London and became more and more a part of its criminal community. 

"But how can it be possible that I remember nothing what has happened? I can’t even remember that we’re… engaged", he whispers and can’t stop himself from blushing. 

"I know, angel. I know. But you don’t have to worry; I’ll take care of you." _But how am I supposed to live a life I know nothing about?_ Aziraphale turns his gaze on the ceiling, feeling a single tear streaming down his face and can’t stop wondering what the hell he‘s supposed to do now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale lays already in bed as Crowley walks quietly into their bedroom and throws his black jacket over a chair. Their bedroom… no matter how many times he thinks about it, he still can’t believe that this is his life now. He can’t believe that he had a relationship with the mafioso and that he’s even engaged - it just seems so unbelievable. During the last four weeks, Crowley has taken care of him every day, making sure that he gets everything he needs but even as he’s feeling better now, his former life seems… like it’s just a story somebody tells him. 

Crowley‘s golden eyes seem to glow in the weak light as he focuses them on Aziraphale. 

"You’re still awake, angel?"

"I… I couldn’t sleep", the younger man replies, looking at the demon as he walks into the bathroom. Aziraphale has trouble sleeping since his accident, even though he remembers not even a second from that night or everything that happened before. He never spoke with somebody about the nightmares that are haunting him every night and the feeling when he shuts his eyes of how the walls come closer and closer till he can’t breath anymore. Even when he opens up a window, he can’t get rid of this feeling. 

As Crowley comes out of the bathroom andput off his shirt, Aziraphale quickly looks away in embarrassment and keeps his gaze on the open window instead. The mafioso slowly opens the buckle of his belt and chuckles in amusement as he sees how the blond blushes heavily.

"You know you have seen this before, eh? There’s no need to be embarrassed, angel…"

Aziraphale feels how he blushes even more and stammers: "I-I can’t remember anything at all, Crowley. It fells like… you’re a complete stranger to me." 

The demon doesn’t turn his golden eyes off of him as he slowly climbs into the bed and takes the blond‘s trembling hands in his. 

"I know, angel. It’s alright. You probably feel so out of place right now… but we can always create new memories, eh? You were so happy before your accident."

_I was… happy_? Even if he can’t remember anything, a small voice deep inside of him keeps telling him that Crowley hides something from him - a dark secret nobody in this mansion dares to talk about. 

"I-I don’t know what to say, Crowley… I…"

But before Aziraphale is capable of finishing his sentence, the demon kisses his wrists gently, causing him to gasp in surprise. 

"C-Crowley I don’t k-know if I can do this…"

"Shh… it’s alright, angel. You don’t have to do anything… just enjoy the feeling."

A growl comes out of his throat and his golden eyes look more and more greedy as his kisses slowly move higher up to his shoulder and his neck. Aziraphale can hardly hold back a moan as the mafioso finally takes his face into his hands and kissed him on the lips. 

_ Did something like this really happen before? Even when I ignore the fact that I can remember nothing, I should feel something at least, right? _

Crowley‘s hands travel over the younger man‘s hips and waist as his tongue moves demandingly over his lips, causing him to open his mouth and let his tongue slip inside. 

Without any warning, the mafioso starts to fumble on the waistband of Aziraphale‘s pyjama pants, making him choking on air. Something about this doesn’t feel right… it feels like he should protest but he’s so confused about his feelings that he doesn’t know what to do. 

"C-Crowley, you’re too fast for me…", the younger man whimpers, trying to catch his breath. 

"You don’t have to worry, angel. I’ll do everything slowly; we do nothing you don’t want to."

_ And what if I don’t know what I want? _

"I n-not sure if that‘s a good idea… maybe…" 

But the mafioso already takes his cock in his hand and starts sucking on the tip. His other hand presses down on his hips, leaving bruises all over his pale skin. Aziraphale is hardly capable of controlling himself because of the hot and wet feeling of the mafioso‘s mouth and tongue around him. All he can do is grabbing the dark sheets and muffle his moaning by covering his mouth with his trembling hand. 

"Ah, ah, ah… none of that. I want to hear you, angel."

Crowley gets lost in the taste of Aziraphale, making him want to swallow him down completely but he resists the urge to ensure that he won’t scare the blond again. He’s still surprised that he was capable of convincing him that they have done this before… that it’s absolutely _normal_ for them. So, he keeps his pace slow, licking over a vein and and feels the younger man growing harder in his mouth. 

"C-Crowley… I…“, Aziraphale whimpers, still trying to hold back his moaning.

"Yeah, that’s right. Say my name, angel…"

His own cock is hard and aching between his legs but the mafioso ignores it and only focuses on Aziraphale. 

The younger man groans deeply, unable to move as Crowley holds him down and keeps licking and sucking on him. 

"Crowley! C-Crowley, I…"

"It’s okay, angel. Just let the feeling go. Let it go…", the demon says, sucking faster and harder. 

Aziraphale tenses and chokes on the air as he spills inside of Crowley‘s mouth, causing the mafioso to moan and swallow every last drop. 

The mafioso slowly rises and kisses the younger man on the lips, surprised to recognize that he gently kisses him back. 

"You’re so beautiful, angel. You don’t know how much I love you… my angel, _my_ Aziraphale."

The blond trembles in his arms as the mafioso pulls away and before Aziraphale can say something, the door gets opened and Hastur comes rushing in. 

"Boss! We have a problem with… oh…"

Aziraphale cries out, trying to cover his body with the dark blanket. 

"Hastur… you‘re bothering us", Crowley murmurs without taking his golden eyes off of Aziraphale, whose face is flushed with embarrassment. 

"I’m sorry, boss, but there’s a problem with the delivery of the… drugs. Stevenson is responsible that all of it gets burned last night."

The mafioso growls darkly as he slowly turns around to Hastur. "And where’s Stevenson now?"

"We caught him before he was capable of leaving the country. He’s in one of your empty apartments now, and is closely-guarded by Ligur and Beelzebub. I just wanted to join them."

"I’ll be downstairs in five minutes", the demon replies, climbing slowly out of the bed as Hastur leaves the bedroom. 

"Crowley, what…", Aziraphale starts but the mafioso interrupts him impatiently. 

"Stevenson tries to sabotage our business whenever he gets a chance. The cargo that arrived last night was worth several hundred thousand pounds. This time, I will personally take care that something like this is never going to happen again."

Aziraphale looks him straight into the golden eyes, noticing how they seem to turn dark. "I‘ll come with you", he says and quickly gets out of the bed, putting his pants back on. Just for one heartbeat, Crowley looks at him with shock and then continues to button up his shirt. "No."

"That wasn’t a question, Crowley. I’ll come with you. Besides, Hastur mentioned that the situation is under control, so why are you against it?" _Why doesn’t he look at me when I’m talking about that topic? What has happened in the last months that he acts like that?_

"I don’t want you to get in danger, angel. I can’t handle the feeling of loosing you… not again." Aziraphale can‘t believe that this is the only reason why the mafioso wants him to stay in the mansion. In the hope to find out more about who Crowley actually is, he remains steadfast. 

"I’ll come with you", the younger man says again. "I can take care of myself; you don’t need to treat me like I’m about to get broken any moment. _You’re sure you’re not broken? Do you even know what the fuck you’re feeling?_ , a dark voice whispers inside of him but Aziraphale banishes that thought immediately. 

"I would never forgive myself if I allow you to come with me and something happens to you, angel.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Crowley. I promise."

The mafioso looks at him for a long moment but finally agrees, much to Aziraphale’s surprise. "But you’ll do exactly what I tell you, angel. Stevenson may just be a stupid asshole but I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out that you’re my weak spot."

_ But it’s normal for human beings to have weak spots, Zira. We can’t change that, no matter how hard we’re trying to gain the strength we’re searching for. _

Aziraphale takes a deep breath as a foreign but also a familiar voice echos through his mind. _What was that? Was that… a memory?_

Crowley looks straight into his blue eyes as the pulls the younger man into a deep hug. "Is everything alright, angel?"

The blond still feels his heart beating way too fast in his chest but he forces himself to calm down. "Yeah, I’m fine… it was nothing."

"Alright, then lets go downstairs to Hastur. And if you wanna talk, angel, I’ll be always there for you."

_ Besides, talking can be very helpful sometimes and I’ll be always there for you, Zira. _

Aziraphale banishes these thoughts as he follows Crowley downstairs. But, deep inside of him, he feels that something is very wrong about all of this. Yes, something is completely wrong and he’ll find out what it is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	9. Poisonous Meeting

Aziraphale slowly walks down the stairs and sees Hastur standing in the entrance hall, putting a gun in his dark jacket. "Shall… shall I take a gun with me as well, Crowley? Or a knife, for example?" A shadow flickers across the golden eyes of the mafioso but it disappears as quickly as it has appeared. 

"No, angel. There’ll be no need for that; the others will ensure that nothing happen to you. You don’t need a… _knife_ or another weapon." Aziraphale blinks a few times but nods slowly. 

"Why don’t you already go to the Bentley, angel? We’ll be there in a minute; I just have to talk to Hastur about how we’re going to handle the situation with Stevenson," the demon adds, tossing the keys of his Bentley to the younger man.

"You’re really giving someone else the keys of your beloved Bentley, boss?", Hastur asks amused, chuckling light. 

"Of course. After all, Aziraphale is my fiancé, so, why not?", Crowley purrs and winks at the blond. Aziraphale swallows hard as he puts on his jacket and slowly walks toward the door. "Alright … I’ll wait for you in the car", the younger man says, closing the door behind him. 

"Do you think it’s a good idea that you allow him to come with us, boss? After the incident in the warehouse, it’s…"

"That’s why I told you to use one of the empty apartments in case there’s a… problem", Crowley interrupts him. "I knew that he would insist on accompanying me to my businesses sooner or later. It would be too suspicious if I order him to just stay at the mansion and I will never let him enter a warehouse again."

Hastur looks at the closed door as he whispers: "And he doesn’t suspect anything at all? I mean… I didn’t think that he would allow you to touch him after that short time." Crowley’s golden eyes show no emotions as he focuses his gaze on Hastur. 

"No. It’s just like you said: For him, it’s like the last months didn’t happen. But, I’ve noticed that he has trouble sleeping almost every night. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he wakes up every night and is seems like he doesn’t know where he is for a short moment."

Hastur‘s facial expressions turn serious as he replies. "Did the doctors mention that it’s possible that he has trouble sleeping after the accident?"

"Yes, and I expected it as well. It’s like his mind trying to accept something his heart hasn’t yet", Crowley says. 

"It’s no wonder after what has happened in the warehouse… even if he can’t remember anything at all, ist seems that this night has left scars on his soul." As the demon growls in anger, Hastur tries to calm him down. "Hey, come on, boss; you know what I mean. But, I’m also surprised that he doesn’t even remember that fucking slut… how much did he care about her when he can’t even remember her?"

Hastur takes a deep breath and looks directly into Crowley‘s golden eyes. "I think it was a mistake that you let him keep her ring, though."

For a brief moment, a shadow flickers across the mafioso‘s face. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Haven’t you noticed how he looks at that ring? Even if he has lost his memories, he plays with that freaking ring every time when he’s lost in his thoughts. It’s almost like he feels that this ring is something special."

Crowley walks slowly toward the door, showing Hastur to follow him. "Of course he thinks that the ring is something special - after all, I told him that it’s our engagement ring. Who wouldn’t think that their engagement ring is special? Besides, if I would have just bought him a random ring which he can associate nothing with, he might have question the whole engagement."

"If you say so… but I have to admit that I’m really surprised that he didn’t ask you why you 'bought' him a women‘s ring", Hastur says with an amused chuckle as they walk to the Bentley. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You’re kidding, eh?", Aziraphale shouts outraged, feeling cold sweat running down his back. 

"I talked with Hastur about that earlier, angel. We haven’t told anyone about our engagement yet, and Hastur and I agree that it’s too dangerous when Stevenson knows about it. That bastard still has good contacts out there and I won’t risk that you get in danger again", Crowley replies, looking on the street again. 

"But w-why do we have to p-pretend that I’m your… pet or toy? That’s so humiliating, for heavens sake", the younger man stammers nervously. 

"Oh, come on, Fell… you weren’t that shy when I saw both of you in your bedroom thirty minutes ago", Hastur says behind him and Aziraphale sinks deeper into his seat. "We could just say that I’m a new member of your gang, Crowley."

The mafioso doesn’t turn his gaze off of the street as he replies: "Stevenson knows exactly that I usually don’t allow new members to join such a… meeting."

"But…", Aziraphale begins but Crowley silences him by interrupting him. "No buts, angel. Besides, I told you that you have to do what I’m telling you when I allow you to come with us, so end of discussion." _End of discussion? Does the think that I’m just a naive child or why is he talking to me like that_?, the blond thinks but doesn’t argue anymore and looks out of the window instead, playing with the vintage-style ring on his finger. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrive at the apartment, Aziraphale is surprised that it’s just a simple apartment - he expected something else then an empty apartment with some plants and furniture. Just the big throne that stands in the middle of the large room and on which Crowley has already taken a seat, doesn’t surprise the young man at all. He stands right next to the demon and can’t stop thinking about what the mafioso meant that everyone is going to pretend that he’s nothing but Crowley’s… toy. 

"Hastur, bring him in." The demon’s voice tears Aziraphale out of his thoughts and before he’s capable of saying something, he feels the mafioso’s grip on his hips as he pulls him on his lap. Crowley’s hand moves slowly over his waist and thigh and the younger man can barely stop himself from gasping as he feels the coldness of his fingers through the fabric. _I’m such an idiot_ , he thinks. _I should have listen to Crowley and stay at the mansion._

As Hastur brings Stevenson inside, followed by Beelzebub and Ligur, the blond flinches in embarrassment as the man turns his gaze directly on him. Aziraphale thought that Stevenson would look like a typical criminal but the black-haired man looks absolutely normal - almost ordinary. 

Crowley carefully leans forward and his lips gently touch Aziraphale’s ear, causing him to shiver. Nobody dares to say something, not even Stevenson - it’s just like a disrespectful act of the past ensures that no one even thinks about stepping out of line. 

Crowley pulls the younger man closer to him, pressing him against his body and whispers in his ear: "Do you like it when the others watch us, my angel?" Everyone in this room can hear what the demon is saying and Aziraphale knows that this is exactly what Crowley wants - to ensure that nobody is questioning that the blond is nothing but his toy and property and that he can do whatever he wants with him. 

"I asked you a question. What happened to your manners today? Do you want to get punished, you naughty thing?"

Aziraphale feels his cheeks blushing from all of the embarrassment and humiliation. "Uhm, I-I…" Crowley laughs out loudly as the blond struggles for words. He can hardly believe that this is all pretending. 

"He’s cute, eh? When we’re alone, he’s never that shy", the mafioso says and Aziraphale’s feels the hot breath in his neck as his hand wanders up his thigh. 

"F-fuck", he gasps, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his voice. "Such a filthy mouth… we have to take care of that later, sweetheart."

Crowley already told him that he’s sorry for the role he has to play this night but the younger man isn’t capable of shaking the feeling of that the demon is enjoying it. 

He pulls Aziraphale closer to his body and the winces as the mafioso speaks again, louder this time. "So, my dear Stevenson… do you know why you’re here tonight?"

"I have no idea, my _dear_ Crowley", the black-haired replies with a growl. "Maybe you just wanna talk a bit."

The demon chuckles darkly. "Nah, I wouldn’t waste my time talking with you if it’s not necessary. Talking with you is nothing but a boring waste of time."

"If that meeting is so boring that you even had to bring your… toy with you, why do you even bother to come here?" Stevenson‘s gaze turns to Aziraphale and the way Crowley keeps stroking his thigh. _Either he’s very brave or he just wants to die_ , Aziraphale thinks, biting his lip as the demon’s grip on his hips tightens.

The mafioso ignores his comment as he says: "You know exactly why you’re here tonight. Hastur told me that someone has seen how you set my delivery of drugs on fire."

Stevenson keeps his gaze on the ground an Aziraphale is surprised to see no fear in his brown eyes. "Oh, that tiny amount of drugs…" Crowley narrows his eyes to slits as the black-haired man doesn’t even try to deny it. "That _tiny_ _amount_ of drugs was worth several hundred thousand pounds, you bastard. And this time, I’ll personally make sure that you get what you deserve."

"When the time comes, we all get what we deserve - even you and your people, Crowley." Stevenson pauses and turns his ice-cold gaze directly on Aziraphale. "Especially _whores_ like him who sell their soul to people like you."

Before Aziraphale is capable of understanding what just happened, he hears Stevenson‘s painful scream as Hastur grabs his arm and forces him on his knees. Crowley has stopped running his fingers over the younger man‘s thigh and his facial expression turn into pure anger and hate. 

_Before Crowley gave him a order about what to do, Hastur exactly recognized that Stevenson crossed a line_ , Aziraphale thinks and feels how his heart beats faster because of that realization. _They have worked together for so long that Hastur knows exactly when Crowley expect him to silence somebody._

"Tell him that you’re sorry", the mafioso says and Aziraphale stops breathing for a moment as he hears the the cold anger in his voice. Stevenson’s muscles tighten and droplets of sweat form right on his forehead as Hastur holds him down to the ground. 

"I said“, Crowley growls slowly, pressing Aziraphale closer to his body, "tell him that you’re sorry, you worthless piece oh shit." Stevenson just spits on the ground and the demon gives Hastur a sign to continue. 

The blond winces as he hears a crack along with a painful scream before Stevenson whispers: "I-I’m sorry…"

The mafioso grins in amusement and his golden eyes are as cold as ice. "I’m afraid I didn’t hear you… you have to speak louder." Stevenson‘s facial expressions show nothing but pure hate as he slowly looks at the demon. "Hastur, bring him to us", Crowley just says, ignoring the hate in the dark-haired man‘s eyes. 

Hastur roughly pulls him to his feet and it makes Aziraphale’s stomach turn as the sound of cracking bones echoes through the room. "Crowley…", he whispers softly, looking the mafioso into the golden eyes. "You don’t have to do this; I don’t care that he called me a whore…"

"Hush, angel. Just let daddy take care of this", the demon interrupts him and let his index finger run over the younger man’s trembling lips. 

Hastur forces Stevenson on his knees again, this time, right in front of Aziraphale. "I won’t repeat myself a third time. Apologize", Crowley says deadly calm as he leans forward. Aziraphale can’t make him stop regretting that he didn’t stay at the mansion and notices how Stevenson focuses his hated gaze on him. 

And before anybody is capable of reacting to what is happening, the black-haired man frees himself from Hastur’s grasp and pulls out a knife of his dark jacket. But he doesn’t use it against Crowley or Hastur: he aims it directly at Aziraphale as he moves forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	10. Innermost Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Zira feels so lonely in this chapter. :(

Aziraphale sees the blade of Stevenson‘s knife aiming straight at him and prepares himself for a pain that never comes. He only recognizes how Crowley pushes him off of his lap and how the knife stabs right into the demon‘s left arm as he wards off the attack. _He… he protected me_ , Aziraphale thinks as he falls down on the floor. _He wards off Stevenson‘s attack to ensure that it hits his arm instead of me. Crowley… saved my life._

The mafioso grimaces in pain but he’s still capable of grabbing the black-haired man‘s wirst, twisting his arm. It is clear to see that Stevenson didn’t expect that Crowley would be able to react that fast and he has no chance to stop the demon from pushing him down, holding a gun to his head. He pulls the knife out of his arm and throws it through the room with so much anger and hate that Hastur stumbles back a few steps. 

"How could this happen?!", the mafioso yells, causing Aziraphale to flinch in shock. "How could it happen that this piece of shit has a _knife_?!"

The blond sees blood dripping from Crowley’s arm as he continues to push Stevenson to the floor. "I-I don’t know, boss", Hastur stammers nervously, trying to make his voice sound firm but fails miserably. "H-He probably pulled a knife out of one of our coats."

The demon focuses his angry gaze on Stevenson, and for the first time since they came here, Aziraphale sees nothing but hate in his golden eyes. "You could get away with a less harder punishment if you wouldn’t have dared to attack him", Crowley hisses without removing the gun from his head. "This was the worst mistake you could made this night."

"So what?", Stevenson growls. "Do you really think I’m that stupid? It was clear to see that he’s more than your… toy or whatever. I would be more careful if I were you, Crowley. It is obvious that he means something to you - that he’s your _weak_ _spot_. 

_ But it’s normal for human beings to have weak spots, Zira. We can’t change that, no matter how hard we’re trying to gain the strength we’re searching for. _

_Fuck, not again._ He doesn’t know what this voice inside his head means. He doesn’t know. 

"Shut your stupid mouth, Stevenson!", Crowley growls and pushes him harder on the ground, causing the dark-haired man to scream in pain. The mafioso tries to make his voice sound more calm as he turns around to Hastur. "Hastur, get Aziraphale out of here. Now. I will end this here alone."

Aziraphale is still in shock as Hastur slowly pulls him on his feet. "Crowley, you don’t have to send me away, I…", the blond starts but the demon interrupts him with a growl. "Hush. Don’t get me angry, baby."

Aziraphale doesn’t allow the Crowley to scare him in order that he is quiet. "No, I won’t go, I’ll…"

"You will do what I tell you! You will go with Hastur now, or I’ll bend you over my knee when we are at home and teach you obedience in that way! And you don’t want that, trust me." The younger man can’t believe what Crowley just said. "Y-You wouldn’t dare…"

The mafioso’s eyes glowing dangerously. "Oh, you think so, angel? If you want me to be the bad guy, I’ll be the bad guy. Trust me when I’m telling you that you don’t want to find that out. Hastur, bring him out of here. Now!"

Aziraphale feels how Hastur puts a hand on his shoulder as he still looks at the demon. "Come on, Fell. Don’t make it worse." Still overwhelmed by the shock, the blond finally allows Hastur to get him out of the apartment. 

_I… I shouldn’t allow him speak to me like that_ , Aziraphale thinks as Hastur closing the door behind them. _I should have stayed no matter how Crowley threats me._ From the memories he has from his life before the met the mafioso, he can’t understand why he has changed so much. It’s just like he locks away his emotions without even wanting it but he’s scared of what is going to happen once he sets them free. He can’t get rid of the feeling that when he sets them free, he would fall hard with no one here to catch him - he would end up falling and crashing loud into the pavement, broken and alone. Just as loud as the sound of a shot that comes out of the apartment. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale sits in the back seat of Ligur‘s car, trying to ignore what just happened - how Crowley treat him. "You can’t be mad at him, Fell. He just wants you to be okay", Hastur murmurs without taking his eyes off of the street. 

The younger man doesn’t look away from the windowpane. "He had no right to treat me like that though. I’m not as fragile as he might think I am."

Hastur chuckles softly in front of him. "Oh, believe, Fell, Crowley knows exactly that you’re not that fragile. But that doesn’t change that he’s worried about you, especially after thinking that he has lost you because of the… car accident." 

Does anyone even think about what _he_ has lost because of that accident? It doesn’t feel like he just lost his memories, it feels like he has lost a part of himself - a small part deep inside of him that was enough to take away his fear of the darkness or show him the way when he had no idea about what to do. It’s _him_ who lost something and _not_ Crowley. 

Thinking about that over and over again, Aziraphale is hardly capable of ignoring the rising anger inside him. "He should allow me to make my own choices. And if he really dares to… spank me for disobeying, he will see what happens."

"You shouldn’t say that to him, Fell, especially after tonight", Hastur says in a serious tone but tries to calm himself down a second later. "You look a little bit pale. Behind you is a bottle of whisky that Ligur always keeps here. Just take a sip to relax if you want to. But not too much - the boss will kill when he finds you being drunk after the comes home… and then he’ll kill me and then you again."

But Aziraphale doesn’t even think about just taking a sip as he grabs the bottle. _I give a fuck about what he thinks._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale sits on the large bed in their bedroom and takes another sip of his whiskey. After Hastur dropped him off here, he simply took the bottle with him without saying a word. He doesn’t care if Crowley is going to yell at him - he doesn’t care at all. 

In fact, Crowley walks in ten minutes later and his eyes immediately fall on the half-empty bottle in Aziraphale’s hand.

"Please don’t tell me that you just sit here, drinking alcohol the whole time," the mafioso growls darkly as he slowly takes off his black jacket. _He just acts like nothing has happened_ , Aziraphale thinks, wanting to take another sip without answering the demon. With that, Crowley knocks the bottle out of his hand, causing it to fall on the floor with a loud noise.

"That‘s enough, Aziraphale!"

The younger man looks into the mafioso‘s golden eyes without any signs of fear. "Are you going to give me orders again? Stop trying to control me!"

"Controlling you?!", Crowley replies angrily. "I just want to protect you!"

Aziraphale laughs out loud. "Protecting me? You don‘t have to protect me, I can take care of myself!"

For a brief moment, the demon’s golden eyes darken. "Just like last time, angel?! You almost died! I thought that I’ve lost you forever!" Crowley grabs the blond‘s wrists, moving closer to him. "I love you, okay?! I love you so much that the thought of losing you tears me apart inside! You are more important to me than anything else in this fucking world and if you would have died that day, I would have die too! So just think for a moment - just for one moment, Aziraphale - what your actions mean for those who love you!"

Aziraphale can’t believe that he is speechless as he tries to understand the meaning of what Crowley just said. "I... how can emptiness be so heavy?", the younger man whispers, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Why does it feels like I’m drowning in my own fucking head?"

The anger in Crowley’s golden eyes gets replaced immediately by concern as he hears Aziraphale’s words. "Angel, what do you...", he starts but the younger man interrupts him. "I know I should be happy... I’m engaged and you truly care about me. But I can’t get rid of the feeling when you don’t even know what the fuck you’re feeling. I’m just so... exhausted from trying to be stronger than I actually am; I am probably just weak. But it’s just like I’m missing something that was really important to me… something or _someone_ is gone. There is a small part deep inside of me that keeps making me feel like I miss someone or something… but I have no idea what it is. D-Did someone die who was important to me while I was in the hospital, Crowley?"

Aziraphale feels the mafioso flinches next to him, wondering if he said something wrong. But the demon just bends over and presses a gentle kiss on his forehead, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"No, angel. I don’t know why you are feeling that way… but I’m sorry. I'm so sorry", he whispers.

Aziraphake blinks confused and wonders why the demon is apologizing. There is so much regret in his voice, just like he’s actually regretting something deeply. And suddenly, Aziraphale is overwhelmed by a feeling of wanting someone to hold him - someone who would never let him go - and just holds him when all the darkness and pain are too much to handle.

"Crowley…", he whispers, pressing closer to the mafioso. "Crowley, please hold me. Don‘t let me go - don’t let me _fall_ down."

_ I will break you in the most beautiful way and when it’s done, you will finally understand where you belong to. I'll make you fall, angel, and watch every second of it. _

Again. He can see these strange images in his mind again, still not knowing what they even mean. But Aziraphale can feel that there’s a part of him, struggling to get free but it also lives within the dark. He always feared the darkness but now, he is willing to greet that darkness - and the _demon_ that lives in it - as a friend to not feeling lonely anymore. To _survive_.


End file.
